


Gone but not forgotten

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5900950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're gone, Sirius</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone but not forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

You're dead, Sirius. 

Gone. 

I'm never going to see you again, and I can't quite believe it. I certainly don't want to believe it. 

I've lost you once before, of course, in an equally painful yet immeasurably different way. It doesn't make this hurt any less. Maybe it should. Sometimes I think that all the unnecessary agony we've been through in the past should at least be made to serve some purpose, acting as a trial run, a practice, making losing you this time easier. But I guess that isn't how it works. No matter how many times I was to lose you it could never be anything but soul shattering. 

It was certainly that way last time. 

Losing you to Azkaban may not have been as final as this - you were alive - but, then, the thought of seeing you again was anything but pleasant. In my mind, you'd betrayed me. You'd betrayed our friends, me, our trust, our -love-. The pain of betrayal was a different kind of pain, more bitter and angry, but the grief was there, too. I'd still lost you. You weren't dead, no, but I grieved for the man I'd loved. The man that, for all I knew, had never existed at all. It felt like the very person I was devoted to was nothing but a façade, and I cursed myself for grieving for a murderer. 

But be it for the façade I'd loved, or the fact that, after your betrayal, I considered you dead to me, I grieved, none the less. 

Of course, eventually you came back to me, and my grief was proved unfounded. 

Our pain should have ended there. 

That I had to lose you once was bad enough, but to be given a second chance then have it taken away...it seems so cruelly unfair. Haven't we paid our dues? Already endured more pain than is fair? I thought so, thought that was how it worked, but I was wrong. After all, if that were the case then you wouldn't have been snatched from me, once again. 

The unjustness of the situation speaks for itself, I think, but the way you died...it was just too much. You would've wanted to die in battle, of course, but it felt wrong, on so many levels. 

You were gone. 

Just like that. 

There was no spell that mortally wounded you, that gave you a chance to spill your last words to me, to Harry. No declarations of love and reassurance. Nothing. You did not lie in my arms, drawing in your last shuddering breath as your spirit departed. I had no body to cling to, dig my fingers into, clutch at, -beg- with. 

And when I wanted to sob desperately, hopelessly, your body wasn't there for me to hunch over and howl. I couldn't bury my face in your hair, which would have still smelt so familiar, and let my tears of anguish fall. My arms could not wrap around you, feeling your still- warm body pressed against mine, and there was no pretending you were just a sleep. Or that you could be revived. 

Nothing tangible. 

You fell through the veil and were gone. 

And I feel cheated. It sounds strange, I'm sure, that the thing I feel most cheated about is the -way- you died. But after the hell we've been put through in the past, and that you'd been taken from me again, I felt we at least deserved the chance to say a proper goodbye. Was it too much to ask, that if you had to die, to let it happen in my arms? 

It sounds morbid, but perhaps if I'd seen your body, held it, then this wouldn't seem so surreal. There was no body, no evidence of your death, or life. It feels like everything you were was lost in that instant, leaving no trace, and no reminder. 

There seems to be nothing but a void where you should be. 

I'm being illogical right now, I know that. I know, in time, that that feeling will fade. Everything you were hasn't been lost, and will be remembered by those that knew you, physical reminders or not. Just because you will not be remembered by a wealth of people, does not make those memories of you any less precious. You'll live on in our memories and, as they say, our hearts. 

They're right, you know? You -will- always live on in our hearts. Especially mine. 

Gone, but not forgotten. 

I love you, Sirius.


End file.
